


Look After You

by Whreflections



Series: Alternate apocalypse verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, M/M, Post Season/Series 04, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-17
Updated: 2012-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 10:32:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/514296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean takes care of Cas after a hard day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look After You

Dean tossed his keys onto the stand by the TV, already toeing his boots off on the floor. They hadn’t gone far, just out to a diner down the road for cheeseburgers and some truly awesome cherry pie that he hadn’t really been able to appreciate when the TV over the counter just kept recounting the mass deaths that had happened that day over and over and over. Dean sighed, brought a hand up to rub at the back of his neck, half turning toward Cas. “Alright. Sit.”   
  
Cas smirked at him and he felt his heart stutter, catching sharply before pounding against his ribs. He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to seeing Cas smile like that, much less smile at  _him_  like that, but maybe that was part of what this whole thing was. When you loved someone like this, maybe they were supposed to fucking blow your mind every time you looked at them. Or maybe Cas was just special. He could certainly believe that could be true, too.   
  
Castiel shrugged off his trench coat slowly, let it fall to the floor. He’d taken to wearing some of Dean’s more normal clothes on and off, but the holy tax account getup was still his old standby. As much as Dean made fun of it, he had to admit(if only ever to himself)that as much as it wasn’t his style, it looked really good on Cas.   
  
He’d been caught up watching him loosen his tie and slide it over his head but Dean shook himself a little, enough to clear his head. “Just hang out here for a sec, I’ll go get some water ok?”   
  
“You don’t have to do this, Dean.”   
  
“Don’t even get me started on things _you_  don’t have to do, Cas. There’s a whole fucking laundry list you insist on.” It was teasing, a little, but mostly serious, a little hard and he could tell by the apology in Castiel’s eyes that he knew he’d hit a nerve. Castiel was Dean’s as much as he was Castiel’s, and taking care of him was something he hardly ever got to do. He had been raised to be a protector by nature, he thrived on it, and not being able to be the strong one in their relationship chafed at his nerves, sometimes. He wanted to be able to protect Cas all the time, like he tried to do for Sam.   
  
He shrugged his outer shirt off, hissing a little involuntarily as the motion pulled at the wound on his side. Now that some time had passed and the earlier adrenaline had left his system it was more sore than ever, just like he’d known it would be. It was a bitch of a slash for sure, but nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. This war was taking a lot out of all of them.   
  
Castiel started to rise at the sound but Dean held out his hand, stopping him. “ ‘m fine. It’s fine. Just a little sore, that’s all.”   
  
“Sorry.” Cas murmured the word soft, almost too soft for him to hear but the pain it caught him, brought him to Cas’ side in an instant, fingers curling around his chin to tip it up.   
  
“Hey…that’s not your fault, ok? It’s not.” And even if what they’d done earlier had made it worse, he wouldn’t have cared. Being with Cas, that was worth  _anything_ , certainly more than worth a little bit of pain. When Cas said nothing he let it go, went into the bathroom to fill the ice bucket with water and snag washcloth off the shower that he was pretty sure was his. Hopefully it was his. The idea of washing Cas off with something Sam had used just wasn’t right. Especially not his wings. Those were  _Dean’s_ , something he never let anyone else touch, something no human had ever touched until him. At least, not in the way that Dean did. He’d discovered pretty quick what he could do to Cas with just a few simple strokes through his feathers, and he’d been putting the knowledge to good use ever since.   
  
He dipped his hand in the water, made sure it was warm before carrying everything into the room, wiping his hand on his jeans. Cas was ready, now, and the sight of him had a quick jerk of pure lust tugging behind his navel, shooting low between his hips. Cas had taken his shirt off now and he faced the wall, wings spread out not to full length but in a comfortable resting curve. Dean sat down on the bed slowly, put the bucket down on the floor by his feet and leaned in to wrap his arms around the angel’s waist, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. “So fuckin’ beautiful.” He whispered the words against his skin, nipped softly to punctuate it.   
  
He felt Cas’ breath quicken, the rise and fall of his ribs sharper under Dean’s hands. “ _Dean_ …” There was lust in a voice already, a deeper, needy edge. Dean leaned back a little, smiling. His motives in this were mostly pure, sort of. He wanted to get the blood off, make sure none of it was his. And he wanted to help him relax. The fact that he knew he could get Cas off like nothing else doing this…that was just a bonus. A very encouraging bonus.   
  
He dipped the washcloth and squeezed it out just enough, started on the left. He slid his left hand just underneath the wing edge, let the feather’s rest reverently against his palm as he stroked the warm cloth across them.   
  
Cas jerked in response, his head falling back on his shoulders, a long low moan slipping from between his lips. As far as Dean was concerned there was nothing better in the world that that sound and he bit down on his lip, held back a groan of his own. He slowed his movements a little more than he needed to, smiling when he heard Cas pant as he started the next stroke. He shifted his hand, wriggled his fingers to bury into the shorter feathers on the underside and listened to the way his angel’s breath caught, felt the way his wing tried to flex into the touch before he got it under control.   
  
Dean rubbed a little harder, scrubbed the last remnants of blood off a flight feather that rested on his arm before moving to the next spot, his hands gentle. So far, it looked like his wings weren’t actually injured. A wash of relief came with that realization, and Dean dipped his head to softly kiss Cas’ shoulder again. “I think I really don’t even need to ask, but nothing hurts does it? I mean, your wings, they’re not hurting anywhere?”   
  
Cas shook his head quick, his breath still coming in soft pants. “No. No.” He swallowed, shook his head once again. “Dean…feels so good…” The words ended in a soft gasp, Dean smoothing his thumb reassuringly along the damp shaft of a recently cleaned feather.   
  
“Good. Perfect.” He nuzzled against his skin, licked a tiny scar that remained from a shard of glass, a remnant of that day the archangel had burst in on him and Chuck. He pulled back and let go, dipped the washcloth again before bringing it up to moisten a new stretch of feathers, saw Cas bit his lip hard out the corner of his eye. He leaned in again, nestled his head against the angel’s shoulder with his lips against the back of his ear. “Stop that.”   
  
“Too much, I-“  
  
“I wanna hear you. C’mon.” Along with Cas’ eyes, the sounds he made were the biggest turn ons ever.   
  
Cas gave in, groaned, whispered a few words in what Dean had quickly learned was Aramaic. Though Dean couldn’t understand a word of the language to save his life, he was pretty sure for the shifty eyes Cas had gotten when Dean asked him to translate that whatever he was saying wasn’t exactly appropriate, in the heavenly sense at least. Dean doubted he’d have found anything inappropriate about it at all. Didn’t really matter though, because getting your lover so worked up they started talking in another  _language_? Yeah, that was fucking hot. And a major compliment.   
  
He finished where he was, dipped the cloth again before shifting to start on the right wing. He wished he could get at the underside better from his angle, but he wouldn’t have been able to without moving him. Beside’s they’d been clean and he didn’t really  _need_ to…but there was this spot right under the curve where if he sucked on it just right, Cas would absolutely fucking  _scream_  for him…and that was an opportunity not to be missed. Unfortunately, he’d happened to find that out for the first time when they’d been staying the week at Bobby’s. Sam had been in the next room, and he’d threatened Dean the next morning with duct tape.   
  
Dean rubbed at a particularly dark, stubborn spot, dipped the washcloth again before pressing it in place and holding it there, letting the heat sink into the feathers and loosen up the forming stain. “Looks like you were goin’ pretty Jack the Ripper out there, Cas. Somebody piss you off, huh?”   
  
“I…” He panted, licked his lips. “Surrounded. Thaniel’s sword.” It wasn’t exactly complete, but it was a much more coherent answer than he’d been expecting.   
  
“Yeah, that’d do it.” He lifted the washcloth, rubbed gently but firmly in the direction of the feathers and hoped it would all come off. He could feel Cas tremble against him, reveled in the keening cry the came from his lips. He could feel his own cock throbbing against his jeans but he ignored it, focused on the angel he was quickly reducing to a quivering mess under his hands. “You know, gotta say I’m so happy you’re never gonna have to go to a hospital to get these stitched up or anything. Cause that’d be…interesting. And awkward.” Not to mention, if anyone else even thought of touching Cas like this he’d punch their lights out.   
  
He felt Cas shift, lean only on one arm as he brought the other to the front of his pants, his sounds fading into desperate whimpers as he stroked himself through the material. Heat shot through Dean’s veins and he swore, breathed Cas’ name hot and hungry against his skin. He let go of his wing with one hand, his arm shooting out to grab Cas’ arm and pull it back. “Not so fast. It’s called the happy ending for a reason, and I’m not done. So sit tight.”   
  
Cas shuddered, leaned back just a little against Dean and Dean shifted closer, welcoming, his chest tightening when Cas turned his head to nuzzle against Dean’s neck. “Dean…please…”   
  
Dean kissed him, all tongue and wet heat, disorganized. “Just a little more. You can do it.” He loved this, loved making him feel this good, loved watching him squirm when he drew it out. He kissed him again, sightlessly stroked another line of damp warmth across his wing and felt the vibrations as Cas moaned into his mouth. Reluctantly he pulled back just enough to see what he was doing, realized he was pretty much finished. His glistening white wings were still damp in places, feathers sticking together with water and looking a little ruffled. It would have been better, more uniform if they could’ve showered together but that would have to wait. He dropped the washcloth off the bed, slid both his hands to the center of Cas’ back and pressed gently against the muscles between the juncture of his wings. “Sore?”   
  
Cas winced just a little at the pressure, nodded soundlessly.   
  
“Yeah, I thought so.” He kneaded his hands gently against the tense muscles, working his way down the center in between his wings to the juncture underneath each. He could feel Cas relaxing, all but melting into his arms and the soft sounds coming from his throat now were in their own way almost as good as the moans he’d gotten before. “Feelin’ better, Cas?”   
  
“Yes… _yes_. Dean…. _please_ …”  
  
Dean smiled, kissed his cheek before sliding an arm around his torso, anchoring Cas to him the best he could before sliding his other hand down to unbutton and unzip his pants, releasing the straining bulge there. He took Cas in his hand, his own breath quickening with lust at the way the angel’s hands fisted in the sheets, his body arching into the touch and pressing himself back against Dean’s chest.   
  
“ _Dean_ …yes….I need…” He trailed off, his attention fully taken as Dean started to stroke him, firm sure strokes. He had teased him enough already.   
  
Dean shifted himself just a little, turned his head enough to bury his face in a soft wing, feathers stirring with his heated breath. “C’mon, Cas. Come for me.”   
  
That was all it took. He cried out, hips pumping against Dean’s hand, his free wing flapping once as his body arched in pleasure. Dean stroked him as he came down, murmured soft words against his ear that he’d only be willing to say when it was only him and Cas, things no one else would ever hear.   
  
His entire frame went limp, his only movement that of nosing closer into Dean’s neck, pressing a damp kiss there and whispering the only word in Aramaic Cas had been willing to translate for him.  _Beloved._ He tightened his arms around the his angel, felt his heart beat against his palm and his chest rise and fall and unashamedly thanked God just in case he was listening that Cas was still alive for him to hold. “Hey, Cas?”   
  
“Mm?” It was sleepy, still out of breath, barely even a coherent syllable.   
  
“You know I…I mean you know that…”  
  
“I do.” Cas cut him off, still out of breath and a little spacey but sounding understanding all the same.   
  
Still, Dean didn’t really want him to  _have_ to understand, not today. He didn’t say it often but he’d managed it before, and if there was ever and occasion, today was it. He closed his eyes, rested his forehead against Cas. “I love you.”   
  
“And I love you.” He sounded so warm, so dazed and fucked out that Dean couldn’t have had the heart to make him keep talking anymore, even if there was anything else important he had wanted to say.   
  
“C’mere.” He pulled back enough to lay back on the bed, pulling Cas with him to nestle in comfortably against his chest.   
  
Cas stirred a little then, moved to slide a hand down Dean’s chest. “You-“  
  
“Uh-uh, don’t worry about it.” Dean smiled, warm and genuine, caught his wrist. “That was just for you.” And yeah, he was still so fucking hard it was gonna hurt, but that was ok. Sometimes, it was good just doing something for Cas because he wanted to, not because he was trying to get himself off. Sometimes that was more than enough. Way more than enough. “Just get some rest, huh? Think we both need it.”   
  
Cas sighed, content, his wings withdrawing into his vessel and his arms tightening around Dean as he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. 


End file.
